A tossaway shot from the Memorial Day ceremony that became more meaningful once I saw the reflection captured in her glasses.
So close ... but yet so far. Why is is that people who can kick a very small ball downfield, past a half-dozen or more opposing teammates and manage to PUT IT IN A GOAL are somehow incapable of nudging their shoes a foot to the left so they are in the approved shoe storage area?
... they say I fit the bill PERFECTLY. Who is more imperfect than I?
Starting immediately I am a writer/blogger for The Imperfect Parent and proud to be there. Please come on over and give me a shout out, comments, whatever. It's a good time. The whole site is fab so do check it out while you're there.
My first love will continue to be writing lengthy columns about my continued lack-of-love-affair with bats and all the ways my family, friends, and old house are trying to kill me and make it look like an accident, but "will blog for food" has a nice ring to it too. Here's to diversifying!
And who among us couldn't use to relax and embrace a little more imperfection too?
Let's just say that if you remember when you just 'had to have" this stuff then we *know* you are old enough to drink.
I guess it says something when teens today want to "bring sexy back" and teens in my day just wanted to smell like a baby's behind ... and 7up.